


Coffee Cat

by HikariYumi



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akira makes coffee and not much else, Coffee, Coffee Dad Sakura Sojiro, Fluff, Gen, No Plot/Plotless, Spoilers through August, Summer, Team as Family, Thieves as family, lazy summer, this author hates the heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 21:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikariYumi/pseuds/HikariYumi
Summary: Summer break at LeBlanc. It’s late and Akira only then realised that people worry about him.





	Coffee Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Hello...
> 
> I... have no idea why I wrote this. It just happened... and what is it with me and plotless fanfictions?
> 
> Anyway... I don’t like the heat and it was warm in the library when I wrote this. Also I didn’t have my coffee this morning.  
> Those are the things I blame.
> 
> Hope you still enjoy it a bit!  
> ~Hikari

Summer break was coming to an end, but the heat was still clawing its way through the closed doors and windows into the café. When the Thieves hadn’t scheduled one of their meeting Akira avoided staying in the attic, the merciless sun was even more successful in it’s cause up there, where the AC couldn’t properly reach.   
Downstairs in the dining area things were much more manageable. Sojiro had invested in some old system during the heat wave a few years ago, as he had explained the day before, because customers were less inclined to drink coffee when the temperature of the air rivalled the the one of the beverage. Still, it was a crappy thing that definitely had put its best years behind itself before Sojiro had even bought it, but due to the lack of alternatives it had to do.

After a while you actually grew used to the monotone humming noise that created the background for every minute of the day; it really was a small price to pay to not die of a heatstroke. At least that was Ryuji’s opinion who used it as a flimsy excuse to hang around in one of the booths as often as he could while reading some manga. His building complex’ central cooling system was apparently even worse than the one in the Café so it was just a logical conclusion for him to come over, really.

Akira didn’t really mind, he enjoyed waking up to texts of his friends telling him they would come by that day, or making plans for the following day when he laid next to Morgana in bed.   
One night, early into the break Morgana had teased him for his apparent enthusiasm of people telling him they would occupy his living space, but he had stopped when Akira explained that he couldn’t remember a time when friends wanted to spend their vacation with him.  
It was true, back at home he had met up with his classmates after school sometimes, was being dragged to some kind of club activities they attended, but it had never been more than that. They didn’t miss him when he stayed at home for a week during flu season as if they hadn’t even noticed his absence. But it had been fine, Akira had never been someone who needed strong bonds to come by.  
Not until recently, that was. 

Today Leblanc was empty, void of customers with closing time looming near, the regulars all been tended to already and Akira's friends off with plans on their own. Futaba had claimed this day as breather for herself after the stress that had been the last days for her, and the group had agreed. So it was only Morgana and Akira in the Café, waiting for Sojiro to return from his trip to buy some cigarettes.

Lazily Akira leaned against the freshly cleaned counter, listening only with half an ear to the news broadcast that competed with the AC about disrupting the heavy silence.   
The Phantom Thieves hadn’t been to Mementos in a while, after all they had been busy helping out Futaba - after she had woken up just in time to combat the imposer Medjed. Still, whenever Akira found some time for himself, his mind wandered to the Velvet room and the Compendium. Even though he could only enter the prison shaped cognition in a few selected places, the part of his mind who was more Joker than Akira kept plotting and planning new strategies and Personas anyway. You never knew when they would need it, he couldn’t afford not to be prepared. He was the leader, he was responsible for his team.

Morgana yawned unabashedly, still sitting the barstool he had perched on for the last half an hour. Both of them knew that the possibility of a new patron coming in was ridiculously small, and even if, Morgana was quick enough to hide that it wouldn’t be a problem. Sojiro had stopped batting an eye about the liberties Akira took recently, either he was appeased by Futaba’s obvious happiness of Morgana’s company, or he had decided that it wasn’t a matter worth arguing. Either way, the boy was glad that his companion wasn’t confined to the attic or a tiny bag during those temperatures. 

The sound of a text message shook Akira out of his musings and even Morgana perked up a bit. Before the boy managed to dig his phone out of his apron it had gone off two more times in quick succession. It was the Phantom Thieves group chat, and as usual the conversation flew by rapidly enough to make Akira scroll up to not miss anything on accident.  
Morgana must have had guessed the source of the messages and languidly jumped up the counter to saunter next to the boy and read over his figurative shoulder. 

“Going to Mementos is a good idea, don’t you think? We still haven’t reached a new depth after the last palace and the Heatwave must have some nice effects on the shadows!”

As always, Morgana was eager to explore the cognitive subway deep down under Shibuya; Akira felt a bit guilty about letting his friend down by not upholding their deal as much as he should.   
It was as if the relief after their most recent catastrophe as well as their new, anxiety ridden addition had rendered him too slow to keep up his responsibilities. Not only concerning Morgana, some nights when he scrolled through his recent chats he noticed the absence of a few of his confidants in them.   
Shinya most likely spent his own summer break in the arcade and wondered why Akira hadn’t shown up in so long.   
Ms. Kawakami was most likely working double shifts at the Maid service while preparing lessons to save some time as soon as school would start again. She could most likely use a break and some conversation, without needing to worry about taking some time for herself.

The chat came to a halt, his friends waiting for his input, an opinion from their leader.   
Yes, it was time to stop slacking off, he would start with Mementos tomorrow and then drop by as many confidants as he could before the break was over. He owed them as much for the support they offered him without even being aware of it.

‘Sure. Let’s meet at the hideout at ten?’

Morgana snickered next to him soundlessly, but the feline body nevertheless shook with amusement at Ryujis indignation of needing to get up so early on a free day. It was true, they normally started their trips after lunch, but they had received quite a few targets suggestions from Mishima they needed to take care of. It would also be Futaba’s first time in Mementos - Akira didn’t want to take any chances. 

The chat slowly died down, Makoto excused herself to start preparing dinner for her sister and herself, which in turn reminded Yusuke that he still had to buy groceries because - he was running low on sprouts.   
Ann intended to try out a new Waffle House close by and promised to update the rest of the group on the results.   
While Ryuji didn’t specify what his plans for the evenings were, Akira had no doubt that he would forget time while gaming again and only realise well into the night that he was supposed to be asleep for hours.

The boy smiled to himself, just being with his friends never failed to make his heart swell and feel as if – despite everything – coming to Tokyo might’ve been one of the best things that could’ve happened to him. Morgana pulled him out of his thoughts this time, his paw patting Akira’s arm in that special pushy way of his.

“Hey, should we make some coffee for tomorrows Memento run? We’ve got quite an agenda, haven’t we?”

Morgana was right, since they had noticed the borderline magic abilities of beverages and sweets, especially coffee, in the metaverse they had made a point of always bringing some for emergencies.   
One time the group had even been so caught up in the fights that they actually had to use up most of their beverage stock in the safe room. Yusuke had been the unlucky one to have been dealt the coffee, the skinny boy had been buzzing with caffeine for the next hours. Meanwhile Ryuji had complained later that all the sweet potatoes he ate ruined the dish for him completely.

“You’re right.”

Grinding the delicate beans came naturally to Akira by now. It had taken a while, but by now he didn’t even hesitate when Sojiro told him to use some of the more expensive roasts for his blend, mistakes only happened rarely at this point anymore.   
Akira could really understand his guardian’s fascination with coffee and its trivia, assembling the perfect cup was as much a craft as it was an art. But most importantly, it required enough concentration to keep his thoughts from wandering, but not too much to be draining.

When preparing for the Metaverse, Akira preferred to use roasts without much acidity, Ann and himself were the only ones who actually enjoyed the stronger kinds of coffee. Usually, he defaulted to the Jamaican Blue Mountain or or it’s Cuban counterpart; both of them were sweeter than acrid in taste and not unreasonably expensive. Neither his teammates nor Sojiro had ever complained about his choices so he decided it had to be alright.

After Akira finished his brew, he cautiously poured himself a cup to test it before grabbing a pack of milk from the fridge. Recently, after Morgana had dropped quite a few non-subtle hints about not being able to taste the coffee Akira made – even in the Metaverse they tried to save other drinks for him – the boy had introduced a new routine. While he himself tried his drink, Morgana was offered a cup of fresh milk instead.  
Well, it wasn’t really a cup, only its saucer -placed on the countertop right next to Akira’s. That way Morgana didn’t need to feel to different, and if that was all it took to accomplish that Akira was too happy to oblige.

And if he failed to mention that what Morgana was served wasn’t cow milk but some variant, well, quite a lot of Japanese humans were lactose intolerant.

“If even the cat gets something to drink you better have a cup for me as well, kid.”

Sojiro entered the shop accompanied by the familiar ring of the doorbell. He didn’t look too bothered by the picture of a pet on his counter, so Akira didn’t apologise. Instead he drained the last drops of his drink and went to pour Sojiro some of it as well.   
There was still more than enough for its original purpose and once again Akira was glad that his guardian didn’t question the masses of coffee he brew for seemingly himself alone.  
Sometimes the boy wondered what Sojiro did in his youth to be so unconcerned nowadays.

“You’re getting better at this” the man grumbled, but his eyes were bright and offered the praise his mouth wasn’t ready to give yet.   
“But don’t get cocky, there’s still a lot for you to learn.”  
Akira could see the grin Morgana tried to hide in his saucer, the not-cat wasn’t as sneaky as he pretended to be. 

“It’s good then, that I’m still here for a while.”  
Sojiro sent him a long look over the rim of the cup, searching answers for a question he hadn’t posed aloud.  
“You could put it like this, yes.”

Leblanc fell silent again apart from the steady humming of the AC and he sounds of Akira washing the dishes. Sojiro had lost patience for the pointless television broadcast quickly and shut it off only to thumb through the newspaper instead.  
Nights like this were ridiculously close to Akira’s perception of perfect. Just standing in the kitchen, nothing more to worry about than to not drop a piece while the rustling of Morgana’s and Sojiro’s movements were a conscious reminder that he wasn’t alone.

“It’s a good look on you.”  
Akira wasn’t sure how long the man had watched him being lost in his mundane work, calm and content.   
“Sometimes you are so far away even though you’re right next to me. With your friends as well. I’m sure at least Takamaki has noticed it by now, so, try to not overthink everything, you’re going make them worry.”

The boy stopped in his motions, hands drowned in the bubbles of the lemon dish soap that had been on sale the week prior.   
“Am I worrying you?”

Morgana’s unrealistically blue eyes had followed Sojiros example, discarded the news headlines as unimportant in favor of the conversation. But despite his friend being staying silent, Akira could read the expression on the cat face clearly. Surprisingly, Sojiro seemed to share Morgana’s sentiment.

“Of course you do, kid. From the first day you’ve been silent and broody. I thought spending time with those misfits would help, but you’re still making that face sometimes. You’re still awfully stiff and you still have an alarming tendency to run yourself ragged. How could I not worry?”  
Then like a hastily added afterthought he said.  
“And if it’s only because I’ll get trouble when you die on me ‘cause of exhaustion during your probation, you know?”

Shock settled in Akira’s bones, but it wasn’t accompanied by the usual sinking feeling in his stomach; instead his heart clenched with the same happiness he felt when he was around his friends - his found family.

That night, after Morgana had assumed his usual place rolled up against Akira’s side, he raised his voice again, when Akira already tiptoed to the brink of sleep:  
“He’s right, you know? We worry about you as much as you do about us. We belong together, so don’t you dare trying to fight on your own. You’re not alone anymore.”

It took five months and some lessons in the art of coffee for Akira to really understand his place.  
It took a bit longer until his friends were able to comment on how much happier he looked.   
But he was getting there, and if he would run into an obstacle, he had people to help him through them. Someone always had his back.

All in all he was doing quite well, Akira thought to himself. Who would’ve seen that coming when he was expelled as nothing more than a juvenile delinquent?


End file.
